Tag: kawasaki

It takes a shed full of certain magnetic twists and turns within the world’s atmosphere, that’s unbeknown to man and woman to ignite a supersonic glow inside us as we open the curtains on a given morning and think ‘BIKE’. You rub your eyes and open the window, the smell of a beautiful day soothing

your nostrils and caressing the face and mind. The sun glistens across the tarmac and then…… as if in another biker’s dimensional world, the road speaks in a way as if it knows you are listening….. and in a sexy alluring way it simply says “HELLO….. ride all over me!”

Immediately after one more sniff of the fresh air, the head tilts towards where the Motorcycle sits, for me it’s the garage. The urge now uncontrollable, it’s as if a magic finger has pressed the fast forward button that

controls you. The shower is on and you’re underneath it, using the smallest amount of shampoo as time is of the essence. Within a split second there’s breakfast in front of you, less milk, less cereal than usual, eating standing up of course, there’s no time to sit. Me…. I’ll be standing in my pants, so I properly dry off as there’s nothing worse than struggling to put the leathers on with slightly damp skin.

Then whilst still chewing the last spoon full of breakfast I pull the cover off, the bike is revealed, the leathers and boots are on……. eventually, the helmet is on so the last thing to fit in to are the gloves. For me, I want to feel like Batman so I sit on the bike then press the key fob and the garage doors come up (you know, the part where Batman and Robin drive out of the Bat cave in the Bat mobile). I slowly manoeuvre up the drive that takes me on to the road of freedom.

No matter who you are or where you are in the world, no matter what type of bike you have, when the weather is right, the mood is unstoppable. There’s nothing like it, smooth long winding roads with beautiful scenery. The sound of the engine, especially the cheeky rev at the traffic lights, the feel of freedom with only the elements against your body and the hint of anonymity as the helmet covers your face or in my case now, a buff (open face helmet). I don’t know what it is…… I didn’t ask for it, it’s just built in my DNA, but I always smile when I hear a loud bike, I have to look, for me it’s a low rider with their arms and legs stretched out in front of them………COOL…… I always say ‘May the ride be with you!’

For me living in south Wales, my usual ride is Brecon or beyond, the scenery is lovely, I don’t travel much further at the moment due to the bikes I own…… keep reading…. the pictures will follow. So once I’ve reached my destination, either Brecon or Tal-y-Bont on Usk, I like to have a cup of tea and a hotdog whilst enjoying the view, whether it’s the mountains, the river or the Brecon Canal and if I’m lucky the RAF Jets fly past very low……. I love that! I jump every time….. I wave but they never beep their horn (for you beautiful American readers

‘Honk’ their Horns!) Of course, I always want another hotdog but I don’t. Made that mistake when riding home from the beach in Porthcawl, the time when I used to own a Kawasaki Ninja 636….. you know, the sports bike where you have to lay all over the tank to ride it. Not good in tight leathers looking like a mini Power Ranger after eating a big bag of Fish and Chips…… that was a long ride home….. and by the way, the fish and chips were this big!

It’s not that I haven’t got friends, although as I get older the less I have, but I prefer to ride alone, it gives me more freedom to go where I want and even change my mind half way through and ride somewhere else. Also it helps me not to ride naughty, YES some of you reading this are saying ‘but sometimes Dave, naughty is nice!’ and sometimes I agree with you. But let’s consider, if there’s 3 of you out for a ride and you’re over-taking, the

1st rider does it easy, the 2nd rider squeezes in but the 3rd who always wants to make sure they keep up and stay with the pack will either make it without leaving enough room for a fly with his wings in his pockets beside you or…. well, the unthinkable. I know, I know, I‘ve been there and YES, some days even if you put a Nun, a Vicar or the Pope on a motorcycle, at some point it will bring the bad out in them and the naughtiness goes straight to the wrist and they’ll want to twist and go faster.

Also it’s not always the biker’s fault, as the saying goes “Think Bike, Think Twice!” If I was running for Prime

Minister or President (don’t get too excited, I’m not…… not this week anyway) I’d make everyone take their bike test just so they’d understand how vulnerable you can be on a motorcycle. There would also be other things I’d do but I’m not telling you……you might never vote for me.

Lots of things left to do in my biking world life, I was supposed to travel through America with a friend for our 40th but we both forgot to save for it……. we were stupid, I think we thought 40 was a long time away. Top tip for anyone else, it takes 40 years! Same time for everyone and it comes around quick. I’ve not yet ridden a bike with Ape bars (I really want to!) Still hoping to travel across America or maybe ride around the Italian lakes or Lake Michigan, I’d love to ride the Californian coast with the ocean to one side of me as my arms and legs stretch out as far as possible enjoying the views and the sun on my face….. maybe my 50th (not started to save yet though) or I’ll find a very generous American new friend with far too many bikes who says to me “Dave, have a month off, come ride with me…..” and his name would be Harley Davidson. I’d even be happy having a few hours riding the Hollywood Hills, with a cup of tea and a hotdog in the middle of it all (am I asking to much?)

When the time is right I’ll know I’ll be there, but until then I’m happy where I am, The Kawasaki Ninja 636 was sold a few years ago (saving for a new bike). I have 2 bikes which I’m keeping, both restored by myself. I have a year 2000 Vespa et4, 125cc, it’s lots of fun, twist and go. I also have a 1978 CB400T Superdream Cafe racer, gets lots of looks, it’s very nice…. and sounds like a thunder storm.

For the new bike yet to come….? Well, I’m in two minds, I’m torn, 50-50, half and half, chips and rice….. you know what I mean. For me, it’s a choice of only 2, and they are the Harley 48 Sportster or the Triumph Bobber.

I’m not the tallest of people and I know I fit on either one, both lovely though….. Well, when either one arrives I’ll let you know, but until then, please ride safe you have a family waiting for you at home. Enjoy your motorcycle, life is always better in the wind with a bike between your legs. Let the riding clear your mind and soak up the scenery and the hotdog and a cup of tea or coffee. But above all else, make sure if it’s a sunny day and the road is calling you, you always come back in one piece and it’s your bed you sleep in….. MAY THE RIDE BE WITH YOU!!

Mrs Frantony had left for the hair dressers. As well as having a hair cut she was having lots of colours put in her hair, and I mean lots of colours, so I knew I had an easy 3 hours to myself.

Now before Mrs Frantony takes all my pocket money away and puts a curfew on me, she doesn’t really look as bad as I’ve drawn her. Although in the mornings…….No…No! Stop it Dave! And before you think it, Mrs Frantony doesn’t walk around like she has silly string on her head!

Anyway it was a lovely sunny day with no more than four clouds in the sky (I know….I counted), so there was only one thing to do, and that was to go for a long ride on my motorcycle up into the Brecon Beacons.

I wheeled my lovely bright green Kawasaki Ninja out of the garage and onto the drive. Then it was time to put on my two piece leathers (which by the way can be an ordeal). Taking deep breaths, I slid into my leather trousers and eventually they reached my waist. Now for the boots…..

When I bought them in the shop they looked awesome, but when you’re wearing them it’s like having your feet set in two blocks of concrete. So before zipping up my fly and doing up the button, the boots have to go on first – I just can’t bend over enough otherwise.

The jacket is next, then the buff around my neck and……and let this be a lesson for all bikers around the world, the helmet is next and THEN the gloves. Because even if your life depended on it, you’ll never find or feel the strap, it’ll be like trying to pick up coins off the floor with boxing gloves on.

Alright, this is the bit that is top secret but it’s been awhile, so I’m willing to tell you my super-dooper trick that helps me ride the bike that little bit easier. I’m not the tallest of people, so when I sit on the bike my both feet cannot touch the floor. Sports bikes are very high….or I’m very small. Now, the trick is that I have to bend over in the kitchen and spray polish on my backside. Yep it works; it helps me slide on the seat ready to put my one foot down on the floor at traffic lights.

So I’m ready for the ride out when the phone rings…. off come the gloves and the helmet. It’s Mrs Frantony, “Dave…I’ve forgotten money, bring me some down to pay the hair dresser.”

I de-tour my ride-out to the hair dresser’s with the money in my pocket and pull up outside; in front of the huge window where everyone in the world is having their hair cut, apart from me, and this is where it all starts to go wrong. There’s a huge camber in the road next to the pavement that was modelled on a camels hump. There was a sign up saying “NO PARKING.” It should have read “Can’t park!”

This was a problem for me with my short legs, I lean the bike to the right with my right leg down so my left leg can put the stand down. But the stand only goes halfway down because it touches the camber in the road and I’m unable to push the bike forward from being tip toe with my right leg. The window of the hair dresser was as big as a cinema screen; I could feel my head boiling up from the heat of everyone’s eyes looking at me not being able to get off the bike.

Mrs Frantony sees it’s me and looks the other way burying her face in a magazine as the girl putting the colours on hair shouted out to the other people having their hair cut “Look how small he is on that bike! He looks like a mini Power Ranger.” After what felt like days, even weeks, I decided that my wife will have to pay the hair dresser another day. I started the bike up shaking my head, not sure whether to laugh or cry, wondering if I’d be stuck on my motorcycle for the rest of my life never to get off!

Luckily no one knew it was me with my full face helmet on and dark visor, I quickly rode off to the Brecon beacons psyching myself up for either Mrs Frantony to laugh when I get home or just shake her head in disbelief at what she has married….